


An Awful Lot of Running to Do

by Flora_Obsidian



Series: an awful lot of running to do [2]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Gen, Season/Series 04, and all the ones after it, characters to be added as they appear, here we go again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-04 19:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13371738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flora_Obsidian/pseuds/Flora_Obsidian
Summary: A couple hours longer was all it took. The Doctor stayed on Messaline for his daughter's funeral, and so he saw her wake. Now the pair of them travel the stars together; there are planets to save, civilizations to rescue, terrible creatures to defeat... and an awful lot of running to do.(A look at the way things might have changed with the Doctor traveling alongside Jenny; begins withSilence in the Libraryand continues on in various episodes from there.)





	1. Silence in the Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is my baby, and I'm finally getting it off the ground again!!
> 
> There were folks from IRL who had been reading on my old fanfiction account, and I started getting uncomfortable with it, so I left writing fic behind for a while. Then I came back, starting rewriting and reposting a few older things, but this... this was +200k words of work, and literal weeks of time put into it. Not my first multi-chapter, but definitely the longest, and I'm glad to finally get around to reworking it. I have _plans_.

Following the trend of books in their adventures - books, her father told her seriously, second-best way to learn (though he'd never said what the best way was) - the Doctor had decided to take her and Donna to a massive library; in his words, a _planet-wide_ library with a digital core, built over the course of decades and stocked with every kind of book one could dream of, paper and electronic copies, staffed and maintained by drones at all hours. There hadn't been any kind of planning beforehand-- in fact, Jenny was learning quickly that her father had little, if any, plans when it came to his actions. Their most recent adventure with Agatha Christie saw to that. He either planned to go looking for trouble and made things up as he went, or trouble found him and he made things up regardless.

Jenny loved every moment of it.

So as they walked through the silent hallways, lined with more books than Jenny could ever have imagined existing, and her father pulled out the psychic paper to show a message that had been sent to him, she gleefully waited for the chaos that she suspected would soon arrive.

“Statues with faces,” Donna muttered as they crept along, seeming more disturbed by the idea of donating a face than by the message said face had relayed to them. Jenny hummed and skipped from patch to patch of light shining through the windows, taking care to _stay out of the shadows_ as had been advised. “God.”

“So we _did_ have a reason for coming here, Dad.”

“Oh, we always have a reason for going places, Jenny,” her father said with a smile, though it was vaguely distracted. He looked about them warily, moving at a slower pace. “Even if it's boredom, still a reason. But-- yes. Got a bit of a message.”

Donna paused to glance over his shoulder, and Jenny skipped back to read the paper he offered out.

_The Library._

_Come as soon as you can._

_X_

“Cry for help, with a kiss?” Donna asked, glancing up.

“A kiss?” Jenny repeated.

The Doctor coughed and tucked the paper away. “Yes. Well. No idea who sent it. Moving on. Ooo, look, a door!”

Jenny watched him go with some small amount of confusion-- the message concluded with an X instead of a signature, what did kisses have to do with any of it? Donna shook her head with a smile, “Don't worry, all dads are like that when their daughters ask about romance,” she said before following.

“But I didn't...? Ugh, never mind.”

The lights began to flicker without warning, and they ran – _love the running_ – and Jenny got to kick down a door; there was a little girl who was really a camera, and the camera could feel pain; the shadows moved around them with nothing to block the light streaming through windows and skylights; the drones which ran the facility left message after message to only deepen the mystery. She loved it; it was dangerous, she knew, but she had been bred for danger, and the high of the adrenaline which flowed through her veins felt as natural to her as breathing.

The doors burst open, and Jenny grinned.

* * *

The leader of the group of six took off her helmet to reveal a woman with improbably curly hair, olive skin, a knowing smile, and a metaphorical gleam in her eye. “Hello, sweetie,” she said, eyes on the Doctor, before her gaze traveled to Jenny, and softened. “Hello, my dear.”

“Professor, how'd you know they aren't androids? We haven't scanned for oxygen levels yet,” said another woman in the group as she removed her own helmet, dark-skinned and her hair cut close to her head. The rest of the group began to follow suit, though one of them stepped forward, an older man. He sounded annoyed when he spoke, and he kept glaring between the woman at the front and the three travelers as though he wasn't sure who most deserved his ire.

“Who are these people?” he demanded to know. “You said we were the only expedition-- I paid for exclusives!”

“I lied,” said the woman unapologetically, her own gaze never really straying from the Doctor's face. “Always lying, there's bound to be others.”

“Look--” The Doctor backed a bit away from the woman, looking between the other members of the so-called expedition party, running his fingers through his hair. “There's something wrong here, something _very_ wrong, and none of you want to stay and fight out what it is, _believe me_. Wait, no-- hang on, did you say expedition?”

“My expedition!” snapped the upset man. “I funded it.”

There was a pause. Jenny watched the interactions with interest, more so as her father's expression turned sour. “Oh, no, no... tell me you're not archaeologists.”

“Got a problem with archaeologists?” the lead woman asked.

“I'm a time traveler; I point a laugh at archaeologists.” The Doctor turned to point at Jenny. “Remember that, Jen. Time travelers, we laugh at archaeologists, got it?”

“Got it,” she nodded, not sure if he was being serious or not, but doing her best to look attentive regardless.

The woman's smile only grew. “Professor River Song,” she introduced. “Archaeologist.”

“Fantastic, River Song, lovely name--” The Doctor grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around so she was facing the door through which their expedition had come through. “Now, as you're leaving, set up a quarantine beacon. Codewall the whole planet, make sure nobody comes here, not ever again, not _one living thing_.”

Jenny watched as the expedition group proceeded to ignore most of what her father was saying, and Professor Song proceeded to watch her father with something like fond amusement, and one of the women towards the back turned to walk towards one of the shelves cast partially in shadow.

She didn't know _what_ was wrong; she wasn't as knowledgeable as her father when it came to the wide, wide universe. And while she was excited to find out what was causing all the trouble, and all the danger that came with it, good soldiers aimed to find solutions to their problems with the least amount of casualties. “Hey!” she called. “Ma'am-- Um, what's your name?”

“Anita,” the woman offered, pausing to look back.

“Anita, ma'am, stay out of the shadows.”

“Yes, good, thank you, Jenny-- not a foot, not a _finger_ in the shadows, any of you, till you're safe back in your ship. All of you, stay in the light, find a nice, bright spot and just... stand.” The Doctor nodded in satisfaction at her warning and continued on in a serious tone. “If you understand me, look very, very scared.”

The expedition group looked at him, some mixture of unimpressed and confusion-- all save Professor Song, who was still smiling.

“...No, a bit more scared than that.”

* * *

The Doctor continued to give orders; the hallway through which the three of them had come had gone dark, and the doorway through which the expedition had entered had quickly followed suit. Other Dave was working on sealing it shut, and Donna was helping three of the others set up floodlights facing outward in a circle. Jenny watched them work from the sidelines.

Her father, for all of his words to the contrary, was _such_ a soldier. He tried to choose peaceful methods over more violent ones, had taught her that there was _always_ a choice other than killing, but that didn't change the facts. She was programmed to be a soldier, to follow orders, but she couldn't help but wonder if she would have been the same even without all the information she had crammed into her head. Her father was a man who could take control of a situation without any effort at all, like any seasoned general, and her DNA was all his.

“Mister Lux,” Professor Song was saying, “put your helmet back on, block the visor. Proper Dave, find an active terminal. I want you to access the library database, see what you can find out about what happened a hundred years ago. Pretty boy, dear, you're with me. Step into my office.”

“Why am I the only one wearing my helmet?” Lux asked as River started to walk away. She answered without turning around.

“I don't fancy you.”

Jenny giggled. Professor Song got a short distance away from the group, _then_ paused and turned-- “Pretty boy, with me, I said! You too, Jen, dear.”

“Oh, _I'm_ pretty boy?”

 _Dear?_ Jenny thought in confusion, but followed after.

* * *

The Doctor and Jenny trailed away as alarms began to sound overhead, and Other Dave stammered out an explanation, but River could only watch in a mute silence.

_Who are you?_

She knew that one day, of course, there would be a time when she would meet her husband and her step-daughter and they wouldn't recognize her. She had dreaded that day for more than a century. And her diary had only a handful of pages left at the end, and she had spent twenty-four beautiful years on Darillium with them, and they had seemed so _sad_ at times... But she had told herself it couldn't be so bad. She had gone through hell and come out the other side more or less in one piece, and the Doctor had spent one last night of twenty-four years with her. She could manage a single day.

_Who are you?_

The lack of recognition in his eyes-- no, she couldn't. She couldn't.

“Jenny,” she called after, proud that her voice wasn't shaking, and the young girl glanced back. Her eyes were wide, bright, naive. “How long have you been traveling with your father?”

“Oh, not long at all,” she answered, bouncing a bit on her feet. “Couple weeks.”

The air left her lungs in a silent _whoosh_ , the pain in her chest almost too much to bear. Jenny didn't seem to notice.

“Hang on, how'd you know he was my dad?”

“That's-- that is a very long story, my dear.”

* * *

“They think I'm stupid, because I'm pretty,” said Miss Evangelista.

Donna shook her head, scoffing. “'Course they don't. Nobody thinks that.”

“Anita's pretty,” Jenny added, “no one thinks she's stupid.”

“No, but they're _right_.” Miss Evangelista shrugged miserably. “I'm a moron, me. My dad said I have the IQ of a plankton, and I was _pleased_.”

“See, that's funny!” Donna said, trying for a smile, hoping to cheer the young woman up, but she only got a resigned look in answer.

“No, no, I really was _pleased_. Is that funny?”

“No, no--”

“You're a brilliant woman,” Jenny said. “They wouldn't have let you come on this expedition with 'em if you were really that stupid.”

“And,” Donna added, trying to make up for earlier. “Brains aren't everything. Who cares if you aren't as smart as everyone else? And it's only a moron who'd treat you less for it.”

Evangelista managed a faint smile, but the moment was again interrupted as books began flying off the shelves; the alarms had stopped, but there was a little girl somewhere in the databanks-- the girl who they had seen in place of the security camera, the girl who had shown up on the monitor screen, the girl who thought that they were somehow in her television. Lux ignored the questions being asked; the room seemed to get darker and darker the longer they remained in it.

“There was a message from the Library...” River started to say, and Donna patted Evangelista on the shoulder before going to rejoin the Doctor, but neither she nor Jenny paid attention to the rest of the sentence. Both of them turned in time to see a panel slide open in the wall, an entire shelf of books disappearing to reveal an open corridor to another room.

But there was no one near any of the other terminals! Jenny even looked around, just to make sure.

“Um. Excuse me?” Miss Evangelista said, and was subsequently ignored. She looked downcast. Jenny caught her eye and gave her a reassuring smile.

“No, really! I think this might be important,” she called, walking a little closer to the new entry.

“Just a minute, Jen!” her father called back, not bothering to look over his shoulder. Jenny rolled her eyes. She was starting to get the impression that her father was very single-minded once his attention was hooked.

Miss Evangelista glanced down the corridor. It was bright, well-lit. Empty. She glanced at Jenny.

And Jenny, hearts racing, adrenaline flowing, grinned in her excitement.

“Come on, then! Let’s check it out!”

* * *

The room went utterly still at the sound of dual screams, and the Doctor’s head snapped upright, face gone pale, eyes wide open. River was already moving as he shouted, “Jenny!” and he raced through the passageway-- a passageway he hadn’t _noticed_ before, that was what Jenny had been trying to tell him, and he hadn’t been _listening_ , stupid, stupid Doctor---

He nearly crashed into his daughter where she stood, stock-still. She wasn’t panicking, wasn’t crying, wasn’t even shaking, but her eyes were wide with something other than wonder as she stared at a skeleton covered in rags. Those same eyes turned to him, and she took a slow breath as if to steady herself.

“We… saw a panel open, in the wall.” Her voice was quiet, but sure, factual, methodical. A soldier giving a report. His hearts tightened in his chest; his lips thinned momentarily as he pushed the thought from his mind. “Both of us went to investigate – it was bright, so it seemed to be safe. I was observing the room, while Miss Evangelista walked forwards, and then-- well.” She motioned to the skeleton.

“Oh, God.” River’s hand covered her mouth. “It’s her? That’s Miss Evangelista?”

Jenny nodded.

“But we heard her scream a few seconds ago,” Anita said weakly. The rest of the expedition team had come running after him and River. “What could do that to a person in a few seconds?”

The Doctor knew exactly what. Or, he had some good suspicion as to what it could be, and if it _was…_ “It took a lot less than a few seconds,” he said grimly.

“Hello?”

Jenny went a few shades paler; the Doctor supposed that seeing someone die, no matter how it happened, was something that she had been _programmed_ to deal with. Hearing their disembodied voice as a dataghost was something else entirely, and if he was remembering his centuries properly, not a common practice on Messaline when she had been there. But before he could explain, River was speaking, looking pained.

“I’m sorry, everyone,” she said heavily. “This… isn’t going to be pleasant. She’s ghosting.”

“Hello? Excuse me, I’m sorry. Hello? Excuse me?”

“That’s-- that’s here. That’s Miss Evangelista,” Donna stammered out, far paler than Jenny.

Proper Dave sighed, ducking his head. “I don’t want to sound horrible, but couldn’t we just, you know?”

River _glared_ at him. The Doctor was impressed at the vehemence behind it, and for once, he approved of anger. “This is her last moment. No, we _can’t_. A little respect?” Chastened, Proper Dave nodded. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, where am I? Excuse me?”

“That’s Miss Evangelista!” Donna repeated.

“It’s a data ghost,” the Doctor explained, slowly reaching out as he did to take his daughter’s hand. She didn’t pull away, which he took as a plus; she squeezed back to the point of causing pain, but it seemed to steady her. “There’s a relay in the communicator there that links to your brain, lets you send thought mail, quick as you please. Those green lights, that’s it, there. Sometimes… it can hold an impression of a living consciousness for a short time after death. An afterimage.”

“My grandfather lasted a day.” Anita spoke with the strained humor of someone trying to laugh in a very dark time. Better to laugh than to cry, sometimes. “Kept talking about his shoelaces.”

“She’s in _there_.” Donna hovered, like she wanted to step forwards, not sure if she could.

“I can’t see, I can’t-- where am I?”

“She’s just brainwaves now,” Other Dave assured her. “The pattern won’t hold for long. She’s not in pain.”

“But, she’s conscious. She’s _thinking_.”

“She’s a footprint on the beach.” The Doctor held out his other arm, and Donna walked over to stand at his side with it resting over her shoulders in comfort. “And the tide is coming in.”

“Where are the women?” came the disembodied voice, and he felt Jenny twitch minutely next to him. “The nice women? Are they there?”

“What women?” Lux asked, and the Doctor heard the confusion in his voice. The only other women aside Evangelista on the expedition had been River and Anita, and it seemed that Anita hadn’t treated her in any way that could be called _nice_.

“Us,” Jenny murmured. She looked around the Doctor at Donna. “She means us?”

Donna nodded slightly. “Yeah.”

“Are they there? The nice women? Are they there?”

“Yes, they’re here,” River said into her own comm unit; given that what was left of poor, poor Evangelista was just looping round and round through circuitry, speaking directly into the comm system ensured that the data would sync. That her fading ghost would recognize the words and be soothed, instead of spurred on into greater confusion. He let go of Jenny’s hand and let his arm fall as Donna step forward, River pressing a button and glancing over. “Go ahead, now. She can hear you.”

“Hello?” called the ghost. “Are you there?”

Donna wavered. “Help her,” the Doctor urged.

“She’s _dead_.”

“Yeah, and you need to help her.”

“Hello? Are you the nice women?”

“Yeah,” Donna said, and cleared her throat. “Hello. Yeah, I’m-- I’m here.”

“We both are,” Jenny added, trying for a smile and not quite managing it. So she fell back into a stoic professionalism, and something more like a soldier’s stance to accompany the mindset. “Are… are you okay, ma’am?”

“What I said before, about being stupid,” said the ghost. “Don’t tell the others, they’ll only laugh.”

The Doctor let his gaze fall to the floor.

“Of course we won’t,” Donna said quickly. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Not anyone,” Jenny added. “Of course not.”

“Don’t tell the others, they’ll only laugh.”

“We won’t tell them,” Donna repeated.

“Don’t tell the others, they’ll only laugh.”

“We won’t-- we won’t tell them. I promise, ma’am.”

“Don’t tell the others, they’ll only laugh.”

“She’s looping now,” River said softly as the light on the comm began to flash, as though its power was close to running out. But the Doctor knew it just meant that the pattern was degrading-- as River said, not a few moments later. It could degrade for quite some time before disintegrating entirely. That was often how things went. “The pattern’s degrading.”

“I can’t think-- I don’t know. I-- I-- I-- I-- Ice cream. Ice cream. Ice cream. Ice cream. Ice cream.”

_Lasted a whole day. Kept going on about his shoelaces._

He hoped, whatever memories of ice cream that Miss Evangelista had in life, were all good ones.

“Does anybody mind if I…?”

“Ice cream. Ice cream."

River reached forward and turned the communicator off. All that was left was of Miss Evangelista was a pile of bones. An innocent life, lost. Jenny studied her boots as Donna turned away with a pained kind of gasp, and he watched them both carefully; sometimes, his friends had a limit, and that was okay. But Donna pulled herself together, and Jenny looked back up eventually-- still standing as a soldier would stand, still wearing the face a soldier might wear as they talked of _collateral damage_ , but with something more in her expression. She recognized the loss for what it was. Tragedy, plain and simple.

“That was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen,” Donna whispered into the silence.

“No,” River answered, her voice low. “It’s just a freak of technology. But whatever did this to her, whatever killed her, I’d like to have a word with _that_.”

And there, the Doctor knew he could deliver. “I’ll introduce you.”

* * *

“I’m going to need a packed lunch!” her husband announced, once he had brought them all back into the room in which they had first run into each other and got every member of her expedition team scurrying about to do as he asked without question. He had that particular tone of voice, after all-- and of course, he just _assumed_ that someone would have a packed lunch, and that the packed lunch would have whatever it was that he needed in it.

_Who are you?_

It hurt to see him like this, so very _him_ and so very _not_. Jenny, so much younger. But she went to get him his packed lunch, so he could do whatever it was that he wanted. He didn’t take it at first.

“What’s in that book?” he asked, and gestured to her diary. And if he didn’t know, she could not and would not tell him.

“Spoilers,” she answered, almost mechanically. It didn’t have the humor that it would, later on.

“Who are you?” he asked again, and she ignored the stab through her hearts.

“Professor River Song,” she replied lightly, University of--”

“To _me_.” He looked directly at her-- oh, she’d _missed_ that look. Never mind that she had twenty-four years of it on Darillium, she missed it every moment she was away. “Who are you to me?”

“Spoilers,” she repeated and pushed the metal lunchbox into his hands before he could press the matter. “Chicken and a bit of salad. Knock yourself out.”

He took it, turned around. “All right, you lot. Let’s meet the Vashta Nerada. Just take a few minutes to locate a part of the swarm...”

And that sounded ominous, but things often were, when her husband was around. So she went to Jenny, drawn to the girl who was like her daughter, even if the Jenny in the here and now was as much her daughter as the Doctor in the here and now was her husband. They didn’t know her.

...They didn’t know her. God, she _hated_ it.

“So, you two travel with him?” Jenny stumbled to a halt in her methodical pacing, a marcher’s step, a precise about-face every time she turned around. Donna just glanced up at her. “The Doctor, you travel with him.”

“What of it?” Donna asked as Jenny nodded distractedly. She was watching her father lying on the floor, scanning nothing but shadows with his sonic.

“Proper Dave,” the Doctor called, in that same tone of voice that got people to work with him even when he wasn’t making a damned lick of sense, “could you move over a bit?”

“Why?” Proper Dave called back, even as he did as he was told. River smiled faintly.

“Over there by the water cooler, thanks,” the Doctor answered, a complete non-answer.

“...Do you know him?” Donna asked, drawing River back to the conversation at hand. Such a simple question, and such a _complex_ answer. She’d need a few flowcharts, some white boards and markers, a couple hours of time to talk about things.

“Oh, God, do I know that man,” she said with a slight laugh. “We go way back, that man and me. Just not this far back.”

Jenny tilted her head to one side. “I don’t understand.”

“Time travel, dear.” The endearment slipped out, for all that it was meaningless to the girl she bestowed it upon. “He hasn’t met me yet. I sent him a message, but it went wrong-- it arrived too early. Much too early. This here is the Doctor in the days before he knew me. Before either of you knew me, really. The Doctor and his daughter in the TARDIS.”

_And you look at me, and you look **through** me, and it kills me inside._

“So...” Donna was plainly confused, but Jenny, even in such early days, saw a problem and immediately set to solving it. “You’ve met him, in _his_ future. But since he’s a time traveler, time isn’t linear for him-- for… us. So you’ve met us in our future, and this is our first time meeting you?”

“Got it in one, Jenny, dear.” She smiled, and Jenny smiled hesitantly back. “And _you’re_ Donna Noble.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Donna answered, perhaps a little proud that someone knew her name-- and that was painfully ironic. That was a lot of their shared lives, her and her family’s. Donna’s name was sung across the stars, the most important woman in the universe, and she would never remember it. River smiled at her, too.

“Okay, got a live one!” The Doctor called, getting everyone’s attention and motioning for them all to stand behind him-- except for Proper Dave, who he said should still stay by the water cooler. He had her lunchbox in one hand and a chicken leg in the other, his sonic tucked back into his pockets. “Listen _carefully_ , now. This is not a shadow. This is a _swarm_ , a man-eating swarm.”

He tossed the chicken leg at seemingly nothing-- at the shadow, the absence of light. It was nothing more than a bone when it hit the floor. River felt herself still; she glanced around to check that the lights were all properly set up, keeping them away from the darkness, and saw Jenny doing the same thing. Smart girl.

“Piranhas of the air. The Vashta Nerada. _Literally_ , the shadows that melt the flesh. Most planets have them,” he explained, almost nonchalant – to keep them from panicking, River knew, “but usually in small clusters. I’ve never seen an infestation on this scale, not ever.”

“What do you mean, _most_ planets?” Donna was eyeing the shadows with more than a little suspicion, as she well should. “Surely there’s nothing like this on Earth?”

“Oh, Earth and a billion other worlds,” he answered, still nonchalant. River found herself smiling yet again at his behavior. It was hard not to. “Where there’s meat, there’s Vashta Nerada. You can see them sometimes, if you look. The dust, in sunbeams.”

“No, but-- if they were on Earth, we’d know.”

“Nah, normally they live on roadkill! But sometimes people go missing. Not everyone comes back out of the dark.” He held up another chicken leg, as if debating with himself as to whether or not he wanted to test another shadow.

“Every shadow?” River asked, needing to know-- she could get her expedition back to their shuttle, even if she had to stun them all and carry them back, but not if every shadow between here and there was going to eat them.

“No,” he replied, but his continuing answer was less reassuring. “But any shadow.” Fantastic.

“So what do we do?”

“Jenny!” The girl startled, looking at her father as he straightened up, shutting the lunchbox with a _snap_. “Daleks, what do?”

“...Aim for the eyestalk,” she answered after a pause.

“Sontarans?”

“Back of the neck.”

“Weeping Angel?”

“Don’t blink and carry a teleport to get out of there.”

His lips twitched in what might have been a smile, too quick to tell. “Vashta Nerada?”

She shook her head. “You’ve never talked to me about them before.”

“That’s because there’s no way to fight them beyond lights, and that’s not _hurting_ them, it’s just keeping them away from you.” He glanced briefly to the chicken bone, lying on the floor in the dark. “Run. Just… run.”

Even better. “Run _where_?” River cut in. She had a duty to the people she led-- and she had a duty to her family. A duty of care, as her husband was fond of saying, though he could never remember where he’d picked it up.

“This is an index point,” he answered, “there must be an exit point somewhere...”

She turned to look pointedly at Lux, but the man, for all he was fond of rules and regulations and paperwork, only shrugged defensively. “Don’t look at _me_ , I haven’t memorized the schematics!”

“But, Doctor.” Donna spoke up, nodding towards another set of exits that led towards an empty gift store. “The little shop. They always make you go through the little shop on the way out so they can sell you stuff, and this is _the_ Library. Bet lots of tourists come through.”

Oh, but she really was a brilliant woman. River grinned at the same time as her husband.

“You’re right! _Brilliant_! That’s why I like the little shop-- little shop are important, Jen, remember that.”

“Dad, are you _sure_ you aren’t just making up these lessons on the spot.”

“Of course I am!” he exclaimed as the team went into action, collecting their gear and preparing to move out. “Best kind of learning.”

“Well, what are we waiting for!” Proper Dave turned to pick up his torch and follow the rest of his expedition crew. The Doctor’s smile was quick to fade; River was quick to pick up as to why.

“...Actually,” he said, in a light tone entirely at odds with his expression – she recognized that, as well, keep people calm, keep them from panicking, keep _control_ – “Proper Dave? Could you stay where you are for a moment?”

“Why?” asked the man.

Jenny wasn’t looking at his face, but at the floor, where twin shadows stretched outwards from his body at a right angle, and his body only lit from one side. The Doctor had the courtesy to meet his eyes when he answered. “I’m… sorry. I am so, so sorry.” Words she knew he had said many times before, and words she knew he would say countless times again. But he meant them, each and every time. “But you’ve got two shadows.”

Proper Dave froze where he stood, going suddenly pale.

“It’s how they hunt,” the Doctor explained gently, as if by giving that information he might calm the man down a little more. And maybe he would. Explaining things gave them shape, instead of some nameless fear-- but the fear of the dark, the most instinctual fear mankind carried… and that fear given tangible cause? There wasn’t any way around that, no comforts to give. “They latch onto a food source, and they keep it fresh.”

“But-- what do I do?” Proper Dave asked, trying and failing to keep the fear out of his voice, though he made a valiant effort. He seemed to have forgotten there was no way to fight the Vashta Nerada, and no one else in the room seemed as though they were going to remind him.

“You stay absolutely still,” the Doctor told him, still in that gentle tone, “like there’s a wasp in the room. Like there’s a million wasps in the room.”

“We’re not leaving you, Dave,” River assured him, and he shot her a frightened, grateful look out of the corner of his eye.

“Course we’re not!” the Doctor agreed. “Dave, now-- where’s your helmet? Don’t point, just tell me.”

“On-- on the floor, by my bag.”

“All right. Jen?”

“Got it,” she said, taking great care to pick her way around the shadows on the floor, staying only in the glow their lights provided. She picked up the helmet from where it rested on the floor and carried it back-- fingertips on the outside, knowing that the inside of it was shadowed, and not knowing it was safe. Smart, smart girl. River missed her so much.

“Give it here, now. And the rest of you, helmets back on and sealed up! We’ll need everything we’ve got.” He took the helmet from his daughter’s hands and put it on Proper Dave’s head, making sure that it sealed when he did.

“Doctor.” Donna had carefully moved away from the edge of the light, well into the circle. “We haven’t got suits. You and me and Jenny.”

“Yeah, but we’re safe anyway.”

“How are we safe?”

“We aren’t, that was just a clever lie to shut you up.”

“That was a terrible lie,” Jenny pointed out.

“Shh.” He turned away from Dave, looking to River. Looking _through_ River. “Professor, anything I can do with the suits?”

 _Professor._ She winced and hope no one else noticed. Going by Jenny’s expression, she wasn’t sure if she had succeeded.

“What good are the damn suits?” Lux snapped. “Miss Evangelista was wearing her suit, and there was nothing left!”

Jenny turned away and glared at him. It wasn’t anything close to the anger River had seen her show in the future – and she was glad of that, knowing of all the years behind that anger, and knowing that none of it had hurt her daughter in the here and now. But it was enough to unnerve Lux. “Yes, we’re well aware of that, sir.”

_Proud of you, dear._

“We can increase the mesh density,” River told him without missing a beat. “Dial it up, four hundred percent. Make it a tougher meal.”

“Okay.” The Doctor nodded, and pulled his screwdriver from his pocket to adjust the suit. “Eight hundred percent!” he said, because he was always trying to impress her like that, even when he didn’t know who she was. He was always trying to impress _everybody_ like that. “Pass it on,” he told her, and held out his screwdriver.

She rather enjoyed the confusion on his face as she held up her own screwdriver. It wasn’t often she got to confuse him.

“...What’s that?”

“It’s a screwdriver,” Jenny answered, peering at it. “That looks like yours."

“Yes, because it’s sonic.” He peered at it, too. Their expressions were almost comically similar.

“Yeah, I know.” She smirked at them both and left to upgrade the suits for the rest of the expedition crew as they continued packing up and hurried along into the little shop that would lead to their exit. The Doctor had taken both Donna and his daughter by the hands and pulled them along to a platform off to the side, three roundels on the floor. A teleport, if she wasn’t mistaken, and she rarely was.

“With me, come on,” he said as he pushed them forwards into standing in the center of the roundels.

“What are we doing--?”

“No talking, just moving, come on. Right, stand there in the middle. It’s a teleport.”

Jenny, sweet girl, immediately stepped off. River smiled to herself. The Doctor sighed.

“You don’t have suits. _Either_ of you. You’re not safe here.”

“ _You_ don’t have a suit, space-man,” Donna shot back, “so you’re in just as much danger as we’d be, and I’m sure as hell not leaving you to get eaten by shadows.”

“I’m not leaving you either, Dad!”

His back was to River, now, but she could picture his frustration. Not on this face, but she knew him well enough by now to know what remained constant through his regenerations, mostly from his own recountings.

“I am not letting _either_ of you die here. There’s no coming back from death by Vashta Nerada, understand? And I know, I know--” He held up a hand to keep Jenny from plowing over what he had to say as the girl swelled up with righteous indignation, so very like her father. “Why don’t we all take the teleport back to the TARDIS and get ourselves out? Because that’s leaving this mystery unsolved, and that’s leaving a planet filled to the brim with a carnivorous swarm unattended. Someone else will be back, in years or decades or centuries, and they won’t have a clue as to what got them. So we have to be here, and solve this, and make sure no one else ever dies in coming here. _Including_ you.”

At long last, Jenny nodded. Her father kissed her forehead and helped her back up onto the platform, and managed to smile at both her and Donna.

“If you die here, I’m going to kill you, understand?” Donna told him. River imagined his smile would look a little more real, now.

“Understood.” And he sent them away.

“Professor Song! Doctor!”

Anita’s shout had them both running back to where the remainder of the expedition’s gear remained, along with Proper Dave, who had been told to stay put-- but he had moved, and he was looking behind himself at his single shadow.

“Where’d it go?” the Doctor asked, though it was doubtful anyone had the answer.

“It’s just… gone.” Proper Dave kept looking behind him, as if to double check that his shadow was really gone. “I looked ‘round, one shadow, see?”

“Does that mean we can leave?” River turned to look at him. “I don’t want to hang around here any longer than we have to.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but Lux responded first. Jenny was gone, now, and he was more willing to speak out now that she couldn’t glare at him. “We can leave him, can’t we? I mean, no offense.” Proper Dave glared at him; it didn’t really compare to Jenny’s.

“Shut up, Mister Lux,” River snapped at him, which worked a little better.

“Did you feel anything?” the Doctor asked, scanning him with the sonic, walking around him, careful not to step near his one remaining shadow. “An energy transfer, anything at all?”

“No, no, but look, it’s gone!” He turned around a couple times to prove his point.

“Stop there-- stop, stop, _stop there_.” The Doctor waved one of his hands for emphasis. “Stop moving. They’re never just _gone_ , and they never give up.” He turned his attention to Dave’s remaining shadow and flashed his sonic at it. “Well, this one’s benign...”

“Hey, who turned out the lights?” Proper Dave had stopped mid-spin, with his back to them all, but even the darker side of the room that he was facing was still well lit. River took the slightest of steps back, immediately on guard.

“No one,” the Doctor replied, sounding about as confused as Proper Dave. “They’re fine.”

“No, seriously. Turn them back on.”

“They _are_ on,” River told him with a wide gesture that meant nothing, given that he couldn’t see it.

“I can’t see a ruddy thing!”

The Doctor was less subtle than River had been – she wanted to say he was often less subtle than she was, but her flare for the dramatic was on par with his own. He leaped backwards from Proper Dave in a single motion, backing so he was standing next to River. “Dave, turn around, would you?”

And slowly, Dave turned. His visor had gone completely dark, as though a shadow had crawled inside of it. Likely, one had.

“What’s going on? Why can’t I see? Is the power gone? Are we safe here?”

“Perfectly safe,” the Doctor said urgently, lying through his teeth. “Dave, I want you to stay still, absolutely still--” But Dave convulsed, and both the Doctor and River took another rapid step back. Anita had grabbed Other Dave and Lux, to the latter’s protests, and dragged them both closer to the exit in case they had to run. “Dave? Dave? Dave, can you hear me? Are you all right? Talk to me, Dave.”

“...I’m fine,” Dave finally answered, and River let a little bit of her fear dissipate. Only a little. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“I want you to stay still,” the Doctor repeated. “Absolutely still.”

“I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m fine.” _I’m fine_. Same words, same inflection. A recording, on repeat. A record caught on a scratch. The fear was back, and a sinking feeling in her chest as she saw the flickering green light at his comm piece. “I can’t. Why cant I? I-- I can’t. Why can’t I? I-- I can’t. Why can’t I? I--”

“He’s ghosting.”

“Then why is he still standing?”

“Hey, who turned out the lights? Hey, who turned out the lights?”

The Doctor, idiot man that River had fallen in love with, slowly started moving forwards. River caught him by the arm, but he shrugged her off. “Doctor, don’t.”

“Dave, can you hear me?” he asked, and took another step forwards.

“Hey, who turned out the lights?”

Proper Dave-- or, not Proper Dave, not anymore, but whatever had taken his suit-- the hand of Proper Dave’s suit shot out and grabbed the Doctor by the throat, upright form tilting upwards enough that a grinning skull tilted forward to rest against the front of the glass, light only by the suit’s interior glow.

“Hey, who turned out the lights? Hey, who turned out the lights?”

Oh, but she was always going to be saving him, wasn’t she? That, or trying to kill him.

“Excuse me,” she said, putting on a tone of offense as she ever did when someone else tried to kill her husband. With a whir of her screwdriver, the suit’s grip on the Doctor’s throat loosened enough that she could grab him by the hand and pull him back to more relative safety, and they scrambled towards Lux and Anita and Other Dave.

Proper Dave’s suit took a single, lurching step forwards.

“Doesn’t move very fast, does it?” she commented. Just some light morbid humor, the same old thing.

“It’s a swarm in a suit,” the Doctor answered dryly and looked down at the floor. Four shadows were spreading outwards across the wooden boards. “But it’s learning.”

“But what do we do?” Lux wasn’t quite panicking, she would give him that much, but he was close to it. “Where do we go?”

“You know how there’s nothing but a wall behind you?” she asked. Lux, with his back to said wall, nodded quickly. “Duck!”

He could follow orders when push came to shove, she would give him that, too. He ducked as she pulled out a gun from her harness and aimed it at the wall, opening up a square hole that they could rush through.

“Squareness gun!” the Doctor exclaimed, even as they started to run. River chose to be fondly exasperated and ignored him.

“Everybody out,” she said, hurrying them through, “go, go, go! Move it, move, move-- move it!”

They rushed down hallways, darted around corners, trying to keep to routes that were well-lit, but finding fewer and fewer options the further they went. They were no longer heading towards an exit point, as they could have if they had gone all the way through the little shop, just running for their lives, trying to survive. Nothing more.

“You said not every shadow,” River commenting between breaths as they turned and backtracked yet again.

“But any shadow--” The Doctor stumbled to a halt as they found the suit standing before them.

“Hey, who turned out the lights!”

“Run!” Anita shouted, unnecessarily, because they were already running, and running, and running-- the suits were still slow, they had some small amount of luck on their side. When they thought that they had lost the shadows chasing them, they slowed to a stop for a brief rest, and the Doctor climbed up onto a chair to try and boost the power of a light fixture, keep the shadows at bay.

They were trying to outrun a swarm of shadows. Shadows, being the absence of light-- and so the speed of light was equal to the speed of _dark_. They were trying to outrun what could not be run from.

“So, what's the plan?” River asked, looking towards the Doctor. His face had gone still and serious in a way she recognized well, even though she had never met this particular face before; he was under pressure, mind racing faster than light for a solution when he only had fragments of information to work with. It was a face she knew would get them out alive-- or, get him out alive, him and his daughter and Donna and, God willing, the remainder of her expedition team. There was a pause, and his expression didn't change. She sighed. Mind racing, but not always fast enough. “Do we _have_ a plan?”

“Your screwdriver looks exactly like mine,” he answered, ignoring her questions entirely.

_Yes, subtle deflection, sweetie._

“You gave it to me.”

“I don't give my screwdriver to just anyone!”

“I wasn't going to suggest otherwise. But I'm not anyone.”

“Who _are_ you?”

There was none of the blank confusion that had so hurt her before-- no, just frustration that threatened to bubble over into anger given enough time. That hurt, too, in its own way. This wasn't her Doctor. That Jenny wasn't her Jen. Their family...

“What's the plan?” she repeated.

He let out a short breath of air through his nose, but let his own question slide for now. “I teleported Donna and Jenny back into the TARDIS. If we don't make it back in under five hours, Emergency Program One will activate--”

“--taking Donna home, back to Earth, yeah,” River nodded. The Doctor opened his mouth to continue talking, only to freeze, pulling the sonic out of his pocket and staring at it with something that was steadily turning to what River could best describe as _dread_.

“They aren't there. The console is supposed to signal me if there's a teleport breach.”

Jenny survived this, River _knew_. She had a whole life ahead of her. So, so many years ahead. And she couldn't breathe a word of it, not now, not here, not to these versions of the people she loved.

“...Maybe the coordinates slipped,” she tried to reassure him instead. Hoping that massive intellect might draw the connection between River as a woman from their future and the knowledge which would come hand in hand with such a position. “The equipment here is ancient, after all. Look, there's a Node, and the shadows aren't close by, just ask who's here aside from us.”

Following her advice, the Doctor jogged further down the hall, tension lining the set of his shoulders, the way he carried himself with each footstep. “Excuse me, there's a Donna Noble and-- and a generated anomaly in this library, do you have the software to locate their positions?”

The Node turned. River couldn't see the Doctor's face with his back toward her, but she imagined that it would mirror her own, and that he would feel the chill settling inside him, and that the air was knocked from his lungs as though he had been hit in the chest just as it was from hers. _Jenny's_ face stared placidly from the Node's white frame, speaking in a pleasant, yet monotone, voice, no emotion or inflection to be found.

“Unit three-seven-five-zero-alpha has left the Library,” it said, through Jenny's face, in Jenny's voice.

_But she doesn't die here. That can't be her, she isn't **dead**._

“Unit three-seven-five-zero-alpha has been saved. Donna Noble has left the Library. Donna Noble has been saved.”

“Jenny,” her father whispered, and his voice cracked along with River's hearts.

 _This isn't right. This isn't how it happens_.

She _knew_ how it happened, and this wasn't it.

“Jenny-- not Jenny, please, not _Jenny_ \--”

“Unit three-seven-five-zero-alpha has left the Library. Unit three-seven-five-zero-alpha has been saved. Donna Noble has left the Library. Donna Noble has been saved.”

“Jenny,” he whispered again; though River was reeling inwardly, she at least noticed the suit of bones turning the corner, the lights overhead beginning to flicker and fail.

“Hey, who turned out the lights?”

“Unit three-seven-five-zero-alpha has left the Library.”

“Hey, who turned out the lights?”

“Doctor, we've got to go. _Now_!” She grabbed him by the arm, and still he refused to move, free hand outstretched slightly, yet not touching the facsimile of his daughter's face before him.

“Unit three-seven-five-zero-alpha has been saved.”

“But there was so much I had meant to teach her.”

“Doctor, we don't have time, we need to _run_.”

“Donna Noble has left the Library.”

“Hey, who turned out the lights?”

“Jenny, I'm so sorry...”

River took his arm a second time and pulled, and either shock had numbed him past the point of resistance or he finally recognized the danger that they were in, because he came willingly; Lux, Other Dave, and Anita were on their heels, and the suits which had once housed her teammates not far behind.

The hallway grew darker. The shelves were tall and narrow, letting in little light from the ceiling down to the corridors, and the shadows which chased them thrived.

“Donna Noble has been saved.”

 _It doesn't end like this_.

Yet they were trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all for reading. I couldn't think of a decent spot to break this chapter, but most of them, whenever they're posted, shouldn't be quite as long, so you don't need to worry about that.
> 
> For more writerly ramblings, come find me on Tumblr @floraobsidian
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated!


	2. Forest of the Dead: Part One

The field around her was wide and open and pleasant, full of grass and flowers; there was a hospital in the distance, and trees in neat little rows, and people walking along paths and sitting on park benches and kicking a ball around. Jenny slowed to a walk, feeling a pleasant burn in her muscles after her long run, and stopped to check the watch on her wrist.

“Yes!” she exclaimed with a grin at the time displayed. “New best.”

* * *

She stood on the edge of a playground and watched fondly as the children darted around, shrieks of laughter echoing in the air, parents standing around or sitting on park benches and keeping a careful eye on things from a distance. She couldn't ever remember her father taking her to a playground when she was a child, but her mother--

No. Yes. No. She never had a mother, her mother left when she was very small, forgot all about them. But she had been happy with her father, even if he never took her to a place like this. Even though her childhood had been different, she had been _happy_. And she was still happy, even if she liked to take this route home after her runs, because seeing the families living a life she never got to have made her happy, too. Because they were happy.

Jenny started walking down the riverbank, the sky blue and clear above her, light breeze tugging at her ponytail. She paused. Frowned. Started walking again, because she knew she was being silly-- she just had to stop and--

\--go up the steps to her front door, walking inside, shutting the door behind her, making a beeline for the bathroom so she could take a quick shower before getting on with the rest of her errands.

She jogged across the road at a crosswalk-- nearly tripped over her own feet in the middle of it, and had to scurry quickly to the other side as she held up a line of cars in traffic. Her mind hurt, like it did after one of the mental exercises her father used to like to make her do. Jenny took in a slow breath and let it out and tried to focus.

She had taken a shower, changed out of her running clothes and into something more casual, then walked downtown. She had bought a muffin from the bakery. She was going to the post office to get the mail. That was what happened.

That _was_ what happened, wasn't it?

God, but her head hurt.

She paused with her key in the lock to her front door. The mail was tucked under her arm-- couple of bills, mostly junk that she had recycled while she was there, no proper letters.

“But I was just downtown,” she whispered. The sky was dark above her, sunset fast approaching, moon already starting to rise. “It was afternoon. I was just there.”

Her head _throbbed_ , almost insistently, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight.

 _I need a nap_ , she thought, and then she was asleep. It was night, all the lights were out, the mail set on the counter to deal with another day.

* * *

Jenny walked down the street, house disappearing around the corner behind her. It was a nice little house, out on the edge of town, absolutely tiny-- just big enough for two, though it was certainly more comfortable with one, if a bit empty. She always made sure that there was an extra room set up, although she wasn't sure why.

No-- no, it was just a guest room. Just an ordinary blue guest room. Why was she being so silly? It had never been anything different.

“Jenny.”

She jumped-- turned, startled. She was walking through the park. There was a woman on a park bench underneath a tree, wearing a long, black dress. A veil covered her head, hiding her face.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Jenny,” the stranger repeated, sounding sad. “We've met before, in the Library.”

But she hadn't been to the library at all this week--

She kept a room in the house for her father--

\--her father had died in the war, that's why she lived alone--

\--the _Library_.

“You were kind to me,” the stranger continued. “I want to return your kindness. You know that there is something wrong-- that the world is wrong. Right?”

The Library.

“I was walking near a hospital,” she said slowly, sitting down next to the stranger. She had a headache. “And then I was at the park, here, and then down by the river. I went to get the mail. I feel asleep-- and I took a walk again because I needed groceries. And it's been years since I came here, but-- it's only been a few minutes.”

She had a headache. The stranger sighed.

“You know the world is wrong, that there is something missing.”

“I've always missed my dad. But he died in the war... But _I_ died in the war to save him-- why do I remember everything differently? Who are you?”

The stranger sighed. “I am what is left of Miss Evangelista. Come, we must meet Donna Noble. She was a kind woman, too. I want to repay her kindness as well.”

She sat on a bench with Miss Evangelista. They were in the park. It was afternoon.

Jenny had a headache.

“We walked through town,” she said slowly. “And I bought some water and offered you some, but you said you didn't want anything, so I drank it all on the walk back and threw it away, and we sat down to wait for Donna.”

“But I only spoke to you last just a few seconds ago, just like Donna received my letter only a few seconds ago.” Miss Evangelista shrugged one shoulder. “Strange, isn't it?”

“More than strange,” Jenny answered.

Donna was sitting next to them. She'd sent her children off to play. Jenny remembered it happening, but didn't. Her head hurt.

“I got your note last night,” Donna said-- a woman entirely unfamiliar to Jenny, a woman whom she had never met. But she remembered Miss Evangelista, and she remembered(?) a woman named Donna, perhaps. “The world is wrong, you said, What does that mean?”

“No.”

“What?"

“You didn't get my note last night,” Miss Evangelista said gently. “You got it a few seconds ago. Having decided to come, you suddenly found yourself arriving. That is how time progresses here, in the manner of a dream... You've noticed it before, Donna, as has Jenny.”

Donna looked at her; there was no recognition in her eyes. If Jenny had never met her before, why did that hurt? “How do you know me?”

“We met before, in the Library,” Miss Evangelista told her. “And you met Jenny when you were with the Doctor and Martha Jones on the planet Messaline-- we're in the biggest library in the universe, after all, and there are so many stories about that man. But when we met, Donna, you were kind to me. I want to return that kindness.”

“Your voice...” Donna pinched the bridge of her nose. Jenny sympathized. “I recognize it, I think.”

“Yes, you do. I am what is left of Miss Evangelista.”

“And I'm Jenny. We've met, I think. I feel like I know you.”

“The Library system isn't designed for Time Lord minds,” Miss Evangelista said. “It's easier for you to notice what's wrong-- you've only been here an hour or so. But for you, Donna, I suggested we meet here. A playground is the easiest place to spot the lie.”

“Lie?” Donna asked. “What lie?”

“The children. Look at the children.”

Donna turned, glancing towards the park and the children all playing, and she saw nothing but what she expected to see. She turned back. “Why do you wear that veil? If I had a face like yours, I wouldn't hide it.”

Jenny turned, too-- she remembered more, and more, and more, the longer she tried to think about it. Her head ached, but less than before. She saw the park and the children all playing. Copies and copies and copies of children, the same boy and the same girl a dozen times over. They were in the Library's database, now, code of a teleport beam compressed into strings of ones and zeroes; Jenny was a soldier, not a mathematician, but _she_ was programmed, too. She understood programming, in that sense. Duplicated images took up less space than multiple different ones.

Some of the people here were real. She was real, and Donna was real. Miss Evangelista had been real. For something to be copied, there had to be an original, and so maybe some of the children were real. But... these children. Placeholders.

“You remember my face, then?” Miss Evangelista asked. “So your memories are still there! The Library. The Doctor, and Jenny, and me. But you've been programmed not to _see_.”

“No--” Donna shook her head, uncomfortable, recognizing on some level what she was being pushed towards and rejecting it. “Sorry, but you're dead.”

“In a way, we're all dead here. We are the dead of the Library.”

“Well-- what about the children?” She gestured sharply towards the park. “The children aren't dead. My children aren't _dead_.”

“Placeholders,” Jenny whispered aloud, still staring out at the park. She could hear them laughing, all the same laughs.

“Your children were never alive.”

“Don't you _say_ that-- don't you _dare_ say that about my children!”

“Donna,” Jenny said sadly, and reached out to take her hand. It wasn't warm. There was no pulse underneath her skin; computers didn't need to have a beating heart, lungs to breathe. Her head ached. “They're all... they're all the same child.”

“ _No_ ,” Donna said again, snapping. “No, just-- just _stop it_ , the both of you-- why are you even doing this? Why are you wearing that veil?”

She snatched the black fabric away from Miss Evangelista's head, and screamed.

* * *

“Where are we?” Donna asked, and she sounded sad. Reluctant to believe what was right in front of her eyes because of the horror of it all, but recognizing the truth. “Why are the children all the same?”

Donna had pulled the veil away, revealing Miss Evangelista's face, disfigured, distorted, warped. She had screamed. They had managed to convince startled parents and a few curious children that it had just been a very large bug, though the kids had then started asking things like what _kind_ of bug, and how big was it, and could it fly? All very good questions, if Jenny was being honest. The same kinds of things that she would ask.

But really, she had been counting the seconds since she had stopped breathing, and found that it wasn't a struggle at all, respiratory bypass system or no. Thirty-nine seconds and counting. It had been even less time since Donna had screamed. No time at all, really.

“They're the same pattern, over and over,” Miss Evangelista explained, echoing Jenny's earlier thoughts. “It saves space. Cyberspace, rather. Your physical self is now and energy signature. It can be actualized again whenever you or the Library requires it.”

“The Library,” Donna echoed, and then frowned suddenly. “If my face ends up on one of those statues!”

“I would hate to see Dad's reaction if it was _my_ face,” Jenny sighed, but she didn't have to breathe to do it. She couldn't hear the four-beat constant of her hearts in the back of her ears.

“This entire world, everything you see... it's nothing more than virtual reality,” Miss Evangelista continued on.

“So why do you look like that?”

Seventy-four seconds.

“I had no choice. You were caught in the teleport system, both of you. Perfect reproductions of yourselves. I was... just a data ghost, caught in the Wi-Fi.”

“But how did that make you smarter?” Jenny asked-- she remembered more, and more, and more, the longer she thought. Miss Evangelista had been good, and kind. She hadn't been clever. “Is there a difference between the code from data ghosts and the code out of teleports?”

“No,” Miss Evangelista said, almost fondly. “Nothing so complex. We're only strings of numbers in here-- code, like you said. I think a decimal point may have shifted in my IQ, that's all. But my _face_ has been the bigger advantade. I have the two qualities you require to see absolute truth. I am brilliant, and unloved. Donna, you are good, and kind, and important-- and ordinary. You have people who love you. You are blind. Jenny, you are as smart as your father, but you remember that you are loved. Only sometimes, then, can you see the dream.”

“But--” Donna looked around them. “If this is all a dream, then whose dream is it?”

“It's... hard, to see everything in the data core. Even for me. But there _is_ a word. Just one word. _Cal_.”

* * *

Donna had fled to her home with her children – she knew that they weren’t real, and Jenny knew that she knew, but she was clinging to the delusion like someone clinging to the fragments of the most wonderful sort of dream as they drifted awake.

But the world was starting to glitch around the edges. If Jenny thought about it – and she didn’t think about it too hard, because it gave her a headache – and _focused_ , her vision began to shift into strings of ones and zeroes. The sky above them both was red, and a klaxon blared. It was loud to the point of being overpowering, but the sound wasn’t real, and Jenny knew that, now. She could almost tune it out completely.

“Miss Evangelista?” she asked, looking up at the red red sky.

“Yes, Jenny?” the older woman answered.

“...I’m going to miss you.”

There was an almost startled pause. Evangelista sounded startled when she spoke, certainly. “You hardly know me, Jenny.”

“But you’re good. And kind. And you _helped_ me.” She turned, eagerly, and took Evangelista’s hands in her own. She met the woman’s eyes without flinching, despite the distorted disfiguration of her features. “And you’re not going to be there when I get back. But this is the biggest Library in the whole universe, and it wasn’t always so terrible. My father, he’s a time traveler. I’ll make _sure_ that there’s a book about you here.”

Miss Evangelista’s smile was sad. “That… means a lot to me, Jenny.”

“And I’m not good with computers yet, but I promise, I’ll-- I’ll find a way! To make things happy for you, here, in the datacore.”

The alarms seemed to be growing louder despite her best efforts to block it out. Whatever was happening in the outside world, she knew that, one way or another, this was going to be the last time she would see Miss Evangelista face to face, and she wanted the woman to know, _needed_ her to know that--

“Happy!” the woman exclaimed, interrupting her train of thought with a bright laugh. “I’ve every book I could ever want, here, and now I can actually understand them all. Don’t you worry about me, Jenny. I’m happy, I promise.”

Jenny smiled back. “I’m very glad to hear that.”


End file.
